CHAPTER V.

Bang! Bang! Bang! went a heavy hand on my door, and a sailor poked his head inside a moment afterward with the news that it was eight bells, and that I must leave the warm blankets to turn out for my watch on deck.

I lay awake listening to the deepening hum of the wind in the rigging, and I knew that it was blowing a stiff breeze aloft. The air in my room was cold, and, as I heard O’Toole’s footsteps overhead, the desire to keep within a warm, snug berth was almost overpowering. I could tell by the shuffling of the second mate’s feet that he was having a cold time of it. However, I turned out and found Brown already on deck talking to O’Toole, who was evidently giving him some instructions he did not understand.

The ship was tearing along under t’gallantsails,{52} heading a little to the southward of east, and braced sharp on her backstays to the northeast breeze that was increasing steadily.

The glass had gone down three-tenths since I had turned in, and Captain Crojack had come on deck to take a look at the weather. The odour of his toilet—which consisted invariably of three fingers of rum mixed with sugar and water—was perceptible in the crisp air, and he appeared a trifle nervous. As everything was all right, and it would not be daylight for nearly two hours, he finally came to the conclusion that everything would go along just as well if he went below and turned in again.

“Looks sort o’ dirty away t’ th’ north’ard, Mr. Gore,” said O’Toole, “but I’ve held her up to her course till th’ last half-hour. I was just tellin’ Mr. Brown here that he wants t’ be careful about that weather maint’gallant leech-line, as it’s badly chafed. We’ll have a chance t’ reeve another pretty soon.”

I could see Brown’s teeth in the darkness, for he knew no more of the whereabouts of that leech-line than he did of Captain Kidd’s{53} treasure. He was sensible enough, however, not to show his ignorance to the second mate.

“I’ll reeve the beast, if it don’t take too much blood,” he answered, and the second officer stood staring at him in amazement for the space of half a minute. Then he touched his head significantly with his carroty forefinger, and went below muttering something about men who were “off the handle” during the first part of their morning watches.

I came to the rescue as soon as we were alone and asked:

“Have you ever been to sea before—that is, on deep water?”

“No, never, except once when I was a small boy and went with my father. He was a master, you know, and had an interest in some of the finest vessels the firm ever chartered. But it won’t take me long to get the hang of these ropes, for they are not so many as they appear to be after one gets used to them. If you’ll give me a pointer now and then, I’ll be able to do something.”

I was sorely tempted to ask him why he{54} had taken the notion to come out on this voyage as third mate. Then, when I thought of what I had heard, it seemed too bad to stir up unpleasant memories with him, so I forbore.

He appeared so pleasant and willing that I made up my mind then and there to stand by him. It was hard enough for him to start out and make his living as a sailor, even if he might be able to hold a mate’s berth in a few years, so I cheered him up and told him that he would get along all right. I had had hard knocks and a rough struggle all my life, and I have always believed that a man who has suffered hard knocks is less liable to pass them along to others than a narrow-minded, soft-handed fellow who doesn’t know what the lives of some men are.

We didn’t have much time for discussing nautical subjects on this morning, for, after we had been on deck five minutes, I saw that we were going to have trouble with the canvas, if the vessel wasn’t shortened down quickly. I wasted but few moments before{55} giving the order to take in the fore and main t’gallantsails.

When the morning dawned, the deepening haze in the northeast turned a dull, steel blue, while the sun sent fan-shaped beams of light through it, giving it an unpleasant look to a nautical eye.

To windward the sea had a ghastly pale colour, and the whitening combers showed that it was beginning to get a good, quick run to it from the northeast.

Captain Crojack came on deck, accompanied by his niece. The young girl wore an old sou’wester, which had done duty for the skipper for many a year, and was wrapped in a shawl. She made a ludicrous picture, standing there at the companion hatch rigged out in those togs.

“Isn’t this grand, Mr. Gore?” she cried, as I came aft to the skipper. “I do hope we will have a terrible storm. I do so want to see something exciting. It’s awful to be stuck away down there in that stuffy old cabin.”

“I certainly hope we will have nothing of the kind,” I answered, rather shortly, for{56} the idea of any one wishing for a gale was exceedingly distasteful to me, especially in the hours of the morning watch when I was hungry and half-frozen.

She laughed pleasantly at my ill-humour, and begged Mr. Brown to take her forward, which the skipper, to my surprise, let him do.

“Going to have a fracas before night,” said the old man; “you better see to those hatches, that they are lashed fast. She will be dry enough at both ends, but she’ll be a brute for taking water over her amidships.”

I went forward and had the carpenter get out two heavy timbers to lash over the after hatch, and then saw that the fore and main were battened properly.

The men eyed the third mate curiously while he helped Miss Waters on to the poop again and then joined in the work of lashing the timbers. I noticed a smile or two in the group and saw some of the fellows exchange glances.

The big, burly German—the first man I had chosen in my watch, and who looked{57} like an overgrown sculpin—made a remark to the man next to him, as they bent over the timber.

I brought the end of the lashing across the fellow’s broad shoulders so heavily that he started up with an oath and faced around at me.

It was only for an instant, for I held my face close to his and he caught the look of my eye while I cursed him in a low, even tone for being so slow at his work. Then he bent to it again, flashing out venomous glances at me from the corners of his little black eyes.

Before going to breakfast, the skipper took in the maingallantsail, and we ragged along under topsails with the weather clew of the mainsail hauled up. Forward, the lower sails were the maintopmast-staysail, foresail, and forestaysail, and they strained away at a rate that sent the clipper flying through a perfect smother of white foam suds.

O’Toole came on deck, and Brown, the skipper, and myself went to breakfast.

Miss Waters came to the table, but her{58} mother was too ill to leave her bunk. The cleats were fastened to the board to keep the dishes from slipping to leeward, and the young girl appeared to enjoy this novelty. I couldn’t help thinking how bright and rosy she looked as she steadied her plate and laughed gaily at every lurch of the racing ship.

She and Brown kept up a cheerful conversation, while the skipper and I drank our coffee in silence. Once I fancied the old men regarded his third mate a little sourly. However, he said nothing disagreeable and, after finishing his coffee, contented himself with some remarks about the weather. We were nearly through the meal when the vessel took a sudden heel to leeward.

A deep, booming roar overhead, mingled with the hoarse cries of the second mate and thundering crack of flying canvas, told us plainly that something was wrong on deck. Captain Crojack jumped from his chair, letting the dish of cold beef slide to the deck, and together we made our way on deck, closely followed by the third mate.{59}

The ship, struck by a squall, was almost on her beam ends, while the main and mizzen topsails, which O’Toole had let go by the run, were thundering away at a rate that threatened to take the masts out of her.

“Hard up the wheel!” bawled Crojack, as he gained the poop. “Maintopmast-stay-sail, Mr. Gore, quick!” he yelled again as I cast off the halyards and got a couple of men at the down-haul.

O’Toole bawled for all hands, and, as I turned, he and a dozen men sprang into the main rigging and up they went to secure the maintopsail.

Young Brown kept with the men on deck and helped wherever he could lend a hand, for, as he was stout and active, his weight on a down-haul or clewline was equal to any.

The wind increased rapidly while the vessel was paying off before it, so by the time the main and mizzen upper topsails were snug, we were kept hard at it struggling with the main and fore sails.

As she came slowly to, the full force of the wind could be realized, and the flying{60} drift and spray gave the thing a nasty look to windward. The sea began to make rapidly.

I took my watch below a little before two bells, while the skipper stayed on deck with the second mate.

Miss Waters stood in the door of the after companionway holding to the combings of the hatch-slide. She looked a little frightened, but was apparently enjoying the ship’s plunges in spite of it. By the present outlook of things to windward, it appeared as though her wish for excitement would be fulfilled before many hours passed.

Brown turned in, or rather he went below, when I did. I fancied that he did it for appearances, as there was little chance for a landsman to rest.

An old sailor will never miss his watch below in bad weather if he can help it, for he never is sure of how long it will be before all hands are turned out for a fight with canvas.

He will manage to get to sleep even if he is stood on his head every few minutes. But{61}
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“MISS WATERS STOOD IN THE DOOR OF THE AFTER COMPANIONWAY.”

to a person unaccustomed to the motion of an overloaded ship, the jerking and crashing going on below are unbearable. It is entirely different from a comfortable ’tween decks of a passenger ship. Every plank and timber is groaning with the strain, and the tremendous cracking will make it appear, at first, as if the vessel is going to pieces in a few moments.

On the contrary, an old sailor knows that the more noise in the working timbers, up to a certain extent, the safer is the ship, for it is only sound timber that makes a great noise. As for me, I was asleep almost as soon as I had stretched out in my bunk, but almost instantly afterward I was awakened by a thundering shock that made the ship stagger. In a moment my door was burst open and a man stuck in his head and bawled, “All hands, sir!”